


A Present Only You Can Appreciate

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Cadfael Chronicles - Ellis Peters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-20
Updated: 2008-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 05:30:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1634027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every once in a while, even rare Benedictines can be surprised.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Present Only You Can Appreciate

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Murielle

 

 

Seated near the fire, bent over a wooden table, Cadfael was crying. 

With an annoyed sigh, he wiped away the tears from his cheeks. That was the problem with peeling onions, even when they were old, dried onions, but there was no getting away from it. What was it Prior Robert had said ? 

"Since you are always the nose in your herbs, you won't mind helping prepare the seasoning for the Christmas meal."

Then the Prior's naturally pinched face had pinched some more as he added, as if moved by an afterthought :

"But do try not to poison us all."

Cadfael had been tempted - oh, only for a minute before he shoved that most un-Christian thought out of his mind - to add some unhealthy amounts of horseradish to the separate meal the Prior always took for Christmas. Perhaps he could mention the idea somewhere Oswin might overhear - in a purely accidental way, of course.

Having cut down to small pieces the last of the first dozen onions, Cadfael tilted his head back, waiting for the tears to subside. A half-dozen other brethren were busy preparing the food, but they were working on the other side of the table, so Cadfael was able to enjoy some relative peace and quiet.

"Brother Cadfael ! Brother !"

Very relative peace and quiet.

Oswin ran in the kitchen, and with the caracteristic clumsiness of a boy grown too quickly, he nearly knocked down a bench. No harm done though, and he was back on his feet in no time, his face flushed by the run. Cadfael sighed, fighting back the urge to roll his eyes, but he was unable to keep back the small smile that stretched the corner of his lips.

"Brother Cadfael, you're needed immediately", Oswin gasped when he got his breath back.

"Calm down, Oswin. How many times have I told you..." Cadfael began reprovingly.

"Brother - it's the Sheriff..."

"The Sheriff ?" Now, the monk was slightly alarmed. "What is the matter ?"

"He needs you, word was just sent and the Father Abbott sent me to tell you to go at once", Oswin let out in a single breath.

"What happened ? Was there an accident ? Or is someone sick ?" God, let it not be yet another murder, Cadfael prayed. The night of Christmas...

"We don't have any details", Oswin said. "But the Father Abbott did not look very worried. I've got your bag ready right here."

"Good. Then you can take over the onion-peeling duty while I'm outside."

The boy crunched his face, all the while trying not to ; the result was quite interesting to see. "Er - do I really must, Brother ? This reminds me there are others things I must..."

"It will only take a moment for a strong, deft boy like you", Cadfael assured him. 

Taking his bag and feigning not to see Oswin's reproachful look, the monk strode out of the room, ran past the cells and arrived into the courtyard. He needed only a moment to get the Brother Porter to open the gate, and minutes later he was on his way.

The lukewarm beams of the late afternoon sun bathed the snow-capped roofs of Shrewsbury, and Cadfael pattered towards the castle, trying to enjoy the walk in spite of the gnawing worry he felt deep in his stomach. He only hoped that, whatever the reason why Hugh needed his assistance, it was not serious. Though, on second thought, if it was indeed not, he would have Hugh pay for his now very cold feet. 

***

"There you are, at last !" Hugh said when Cadfael appeared in Aline's appartments, where he had been directed after arriving in the castle.

"I came as quickly as I could. Whoever needs me, it's obviously not you, so where..." Cadfael began.

"Oh, but you're mistaken. I am most definitely the one who needs you. Well, me and Aline and Giles", the Sheriff amended.

Aline entered at that moment, Giles pattering behind her with a big smile. The little boy was holding a wooden toy in one hand, some sweet bread in the other, and obviously could not have been happier.

Somewhat confused, though he was beginning to understand, Cadfael frowned. "Excuse me ?"

"Well..." Hugh said slowly, a smile creeping on his lips. "Won't you take a seat ? You're our guest of honour, you know."

"You mean no one's sick", Cadfael said accusingly.

"I never said anyone was sick", Hugh answered, full of hypocrite surprise. "If my messenger did, he was very much mistaken."

"Well..." Try as he might, Cadfael could not remember Oswin mentioning any illness or wound. "But you knew the Father Abbott would think..."

"I knew nothing of the kind, did I, Aline ?"

"Of course not", the young woman said. A smile brightened her pale features. "We see you so rarely, Brother Cadfael, we've always wanted you to spend Christmas with us. Just this one time."

Cadfael was trying very hard to force a reproachful expression on his face, and finding it very difficult. "You should not have done that", he said lamely.

"Shouldn't I ? I keep forgetting", Hugh said lightly. "Anyway, now that you're here, we're keeping you. Besides, I've got a present for you."

"A present ?" Curiosity was getting the better of Cadfael ; righteousness did not stand a chance in this battle.

"Yes, a present. It's not here yet, but it should arrive any moment."

Righteousness made one last attempt before going for a full-fledged, shameful retreat. "I can't possibly accept, Hugh."

Aline laughed. "Don't worry, Brother", she said as she took his hand and dragged him to a seat. "This is the kind of present you can very much accept - actually, the kind of present only you can fully appreciate."

Truly confused this time, Cadfael looked at her, then Hugh, who was clearly enjoying himself. Eventually, he sighed - the content sigh of someone surrendering to do something he knew he should not do, but that he wanted very much to. "I see I am not given much of a choice."

Giles, who was at just six years of age getting a little big for that kind of exercise (but quite unwilling to admit it) began to climb on the monk's knee, which was made rather difficult by the fact that both his hands were full. Crumbs of sweet bread were caught on the rough cloth of Cadfael's scapular, but eventually the boy's efforts were rewarded and he triumphally cuddled up to the monk.

"And I'm now prisonner to the young master Beringar", Cadfael sighed ruefully. "Shall I be ransomed, my Lord ?"

"You shall", Hugh said. "Actually, your rescuer is on his way, if you'll give it a little more time. For now, it's time to eat."

"My rescuer ?" Cadfael repeated, even though he let himself be dragged to the long, rectangular table that stood in the middle of the room, and where various dishes were waiting.

The rest of the Beringar family were taking there seats as well, and none of them seemed ready to give him a clearer explanation ; though, to be fair, Giles was paying more attention to the food than to his godfather.

"Perhaps you will remember", Hugh commented, "that a few days after we met, you got the better of me, and we were never even on that count."

"I did not see you complaining of the results."

"Of course not", the Sheriff smiled. The slight movement of his shoulder told Cadfael that he was stroking Aline's hand beneath the table. "Nevertheless, I feel that, as a revenge, you should be left in the dark. Perhaps you will know then what it is like to try to lead an enquiry with you always two steps ahead."

Cadfael crossed his arms. "I have no idea what you are getting at."

"That, Brother, is precisely the point. You will take some meat, won't you ?"

Cadfael's attempts, during the meal, to get some more clues out of Hugh or Aline, were met with the most stubborn changings of subject. Even Giles did not let the smallest thing slip up. Eventually, Cadfael gave up and did his best to enjoy the meal. He was so successful in that last attempt that he wondered how he could ever manage to swallow anything of the Christmas dinner at the abbaye after that. He would have some time to digest it all, thankfully, for he had heard the call for Vespers only a little time ago.

It was just after the desert had been served that a discret knock could be heard at the door and a young page entered.

"My lord", the boy said formally, "the guest you were expecting just arrived."

"At last !" Hugh exclaimed as he stood up. "Have him come in, then."

Suspecting that this had to do with the famous "surprise", Cadfael waited intently. He did not have to wait long ; only moments later, a tall, hooded man was shown in. He looked somewhat familiar, though the monk could not make out his features, and he stretched out his neck discreetly in an attempt to see something under the hood. Meanwhile, Hugh had dismissed the page and was offering the newcomer a seat.

"I hope the trip was not too difficult", he said.

"No, but my horse began to limp, and I had to take it easy for the last few miles", the stranger replied.

This voice... Cadfael had heard it only a few times, and yet it was incredibly familiar. It seemed to grasp at his very soul. And when the stranger finally pushed his hood back, the face that appeared was the one Cadfael expected, without daring to really believe it. But then, the yellow, hawk-like eyes looked directly at him, and the monk could only accept it as a fact.

"Olivier..." his voice was faint, but he heard it as though it had been someone else speaking.

His son's stern features eased into a smile. For the first time, Cadfael noticed, though a little absently, that there was much of Maryam's appearance in her... their... son. The hair, the eyes, the angle of the cheekbones...

"Hello, father", Olivier said quietly. "Lord Beringar was kind enough to invite me, so I thought I would drop by for a few hours. I can't stay very long..." the regret in the knight's voice was sincere, and that single fact made Cadfael very happy. 

"I am... very glad to see you", the monk said softly. He knew his voice was quivering a little, and he did not care.

Hugh and Aline were smiling widely now, made happy by their old friend's joy, and they discreetly walked out of the room to give father and son some intimity.

Olivier, even as undemonstrative as he usually was, did not wait for them to be out to take his father into a strong embrace.

"I wish you a merry Christmas, Father", he murmured into Cadfael's ear.

 


End file.
